


to see a perfect forest through so many splintered trees

by girlsarewolves



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Canon, So much angst, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/pseuds/girlsarewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darkness. Cold. All she knows is the absence of light and heat. Her life has become nothingness. She doesn't even get the blessing of sleep. Sometimes she hears things. Sometimes, there's a voice, breaking through the haze. Harsh, frigid, familiar; a voice she would know anywhere, no matter how different it may sound now.</p><p>"Some day, Nora," he says. "Some day I will find the cure. I will be able to bring you back into the world. And maybe then I will finally remember what it is to feel warmth."</p>
            </blockquote>





	to see a perfect forest through so many splintered trees

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of problems with Arkham Knight's story but what they did with Nora and Victor is not one of them. Also, I apparently enjoy torturing myself. Feedback appreciated. :)
> 
> Warnings: References to a character dying from an unnamed illness, character death, and suicide.

* * *

Darkness. Cold. All she knows is the absence of light and heat. Her life has become nothingness. She doesn't even get the blessing of sleep. Sometimes she hears things. Sometimes, there's a voice, breaking through the haze. Harsh, frigid, familiar; a voice she would know anywhere, no matter how different it may sound now.  
  
"Some day, Nora," he says. "Some day I will find the cure. I will be able to bring you back into the world. And maybe then I will finally remember what it is to feel warmth."  
  
Victor.  
  
The need to whisper his name comes to her every time he speaks, breaks through the nothingness. Nothing happens; her brain tries to send signals to her throat, her lips, yet there is silence. Stillness. Her tongue remains motionless in her mouth.  
  
Victor.  
  
When whispering fails, the urge to scream comes to her. It's just as impotent as the attempts to whisper.  
  
He talks to her often; cuts through the constant void with promises he'll fix her, he'll fix everything. The metallic, near robotic sound of him hurts as much as the cold. Victor was never the most outwardly passionate man, but there was warmth in his voice; emotion. Love.  
  
"Some day," he says.  
  
Some day is too far away, Victor.  
  
Other voices creep in. Some are brief, here one moment and gone the next, never to be heard in the bleak void again. Others are almost as constant as Victor's; Batman stands out among the faceless crowd. His voice brings both fear and hope into the nothingness of her life. Something to combat the sorrow, the anger, the helplessness.  
  
Victor. Please help Victor. Please help me.  
  
She never thought anyone would hear her. But then the light comes, and the heat of fresh air flowing around her, of another body near hers without all the ice between them. Recognition comes the moment her eyes finally focus, finally see, even though it's the first time she's seen him. She's known him only as a voice, a few memories of blurry pictures in the paper.  
  
Pain hits her, hard and fast, and she knows she doesn't have long. Better this than a lifetime of the void, the absence of light and heat and fresh air in her lungs and her body responding to her own commands.  
  
Victor.  
  
His voice comes in, and she sees him. She sees what she's heard in his voice, what she can only vaguely recall happening around her when he first put her into stasis.  
  
There is no fixing this.

* * *

Sleep doesn't come, and for that Nora is grateful. As much as part of her longed for it, for that blissful ignorance of time passing, of everything happening around her, now all she wants is to live, breathe, move, experience every second she has left.  
  
The cold of the ship feels like summer after years in an ice cube. Victor keeps the lights dim for her, she knows this even though sometimes she still feels blinded by it all.  
  
And Victor.  
  
There is an ache that follows her; the weight of his eyes never leaving her. The awareness of his body always near yet never close enough. He is a constant, as he has always been; only now he is a silent one. Afraid to speak to her even though she knows there is so much he wants to say now that she can respond. Maybe afraid because she can.  
  
"Victor."  
  
His name forms on her lips and comes out a gentle whisper; her body obeys the signals sent by her brain.  
  
And he goes still; eyes lower, shoulders drop, body turns away. Shame and guilt and fear and helplessness are tangible in his body language the same way emotion used to be in his voice. He is not the cold, robotic figure she heard breaking through the nothingness. He is a man; the man she fell in love with.  
  
"Dance with me."  
  
Moving hurts. Nora loves every moment of it.  
  
"Nora-"  
  
"Victor."  
  
They stand there, still and silent, for several moments. It's been a day; they don't know how much longer she has. They have. They dance; Victor gives in without another word and takes the few steps needed to bring him close to her. They dance like they used to, a slow waltz that they both fumble. Like their awkward first date, and their playful first wedding dance.  
  
Nora laughs, the first time since she lost Victor to the search for a cure. She laughs, even when her lungs burn and the sound turns into a cough.  
  
Victor laughs until it does. He tries to pull away, to get something to help her.  
  
There is a strength in her grip that should be nothing to him; she's weak from years without moving, he's so much stronger from surviving everything that's happened. But she stops him, pulls him back.  
  
"You can't fix me, Victor. And that's not your fault."  
  
Ice shatters; he falls to his knees, arms sliding around her, holding her. The dry, violent sobs shake them both, and she lowers down to remove enough of the suit that he won't be in pain, enough of the suit that she can cup his face. He breaks apart in chunks, and there he is.  
  
Victor.  
  
Buried under Mr. Freeze, under the rogue, under the robotic scientist determined he could defeat death.  
  
"You were the only one to ever make me happy," he says; his voice is so warm. "The only one to ever make me feel anything that mattered, that was real. You made me believe in things I thought were fairy tales. Made me believe in truth, not just facts. You deserved, more than anyone or anything I ever tried to help - more than me - to live."  
  
Nora smiles; presses her lips to his and doesn't mind the chill. "I'm living right now. It doesn't matter how long I live, Victor. What matters is how well I live. I'm living more lifetimes in this moment, than the ages I spent frozen, trapped, away from you and the world. If this is all I get, this will be enough."  
  
He touches her face, the gloves gone. He's so very cold, and that's how the world will always know him, except for her. He was warm once, warm and kind and dedicated. He was never perfect; she knows he did horrible things that frightened others when all he wanted was to find a way to help. To fix.  
  
"I never deserved you."  
  
Oh, Victor. "That's not what love is about."

* * *

Love. Warmth. All she knows in the end is the presence of both. Victor holding her as she fades; his breathing is harsh, labored. She knows he's dying too, knows he's removed everything that keeps him alive in the outside world. She takes his hand in hers. A voice breaks through the haze.  
  
"I remember now. I remember warmth."  
  
Victor.  
  
The need to whisper his name comes one last time. Nothing happens; her brain sends signals to her lips, her throat. Yet there is silence. Stillness. Her tongue remains motionless in her mouth.


End file.
